I loved you from the first time I saw you I think I was twelve
by Lydia'sLostHead
Summary: What happened before season 3 and Naomily, that made Naomi the sarcastic bitch she is. I am pro Emily so I love perving on her through Naomis eyes ;D I'm working on the following chapters and recently found out that searching for Naomis reasons to be the way she is, means thinking about a main question: "When does childhood end?"
1. beginning with the end

So this is how I'll start my own story not just doodles...

I bet I'm going to be one of those idiots only updating half a year but then three times a week because I appear to have some free time.

As a Naomily-Fan I'm sure we all love that they finally get back together when Naomi is delivering her heart warming speech at Freddies shed.

It always makes me think about what happened before series 3. I've read some quite good stories about that and now I'm going to write my own, even though I'm not sure how well written it will be. For those who haven't read my other story: English is not my first language.

This story won't be too long maybe 10 Chapters probably less, like seven or eight.

Enjoy and subscribe. I want to hear what's on your mind girls, or at least what you're thinking about the following chapter :)

I never had a subscription before so be my first :D

It's all going to be Naomis POV

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><p>"What the fuck kind of lame old rave is this?! I dressed up!" Katie complains with her slight lisp as I step to Freddies door. Cook answers, but he is speaking to low to understand. I can hear shit music playing and JJs muffled voice through the sheds door. They're playing ace of truth. So this is my chance I think while pushing the door open.<p>

"_I will."_

Finally the words are stumbling out of my head, lining up behind my shivering lips. These injured little fellows are only waiting to fall on the floor in front of Emily, my love.

Like ghosts that have spent days, more likely weeks haunting my thoughts.

I guess they started building groups of small anxious sentences, when I set next to Cook, telling him that I love someone, after I kissed him. I felt that I needed, really craved to kiss someone else again, back then. I needed to kiss this someone that I love, who is now standing there next to her sister, staring at me like she'd never touch me again … ever.

Emilies arms are crossed. Her frown tells me "I don't know how you want to fix this, concerning the way you fucked it up!" Yes: I can literally hear the exclamation mark she makes in her thoughts shouting at me.

While my thoughts betray me when I silently answer hers : " Me nether, me nether." But my heart stays brave, which is quite rare lately. It tells me " You have to try or I'll leave with Emily. I'm tired of beading only for your pitiful self."

So I take a deep breath and start speaking:

"_I loved you from the first time I saw you. I think I was twelve."_

Not only my lips are shaking. My voice trembles too and I try not to care, knowing I need to tell the things that build up in my mind.

"_It took me three years to plug up the courage to speak to you. And I was so scared of the way I felt ...you know loving a girl … Well I learned how to become a sarcastic bitch just to make me feel normal."_

I can't help remembering how Emily stormed out of my room one day saying "You're always scared." I just try not to be now. Inhaling to go on laying my heart to the feet of the girl I love.

"_I screwed guys to make it go away, but it didn't work."_

She was so disappointed, when she left me that day. Not angry only tired of me.

"_When we got together it scared the shit out of me because you were the one person who could ruin my life."_

Saying this I can feel that my trembling voice gets high and finally breaks. I can't push away the little sob although I try. I'm not ready jet.

_I pushed you away I made you think things were your fault, but really I was just terrified of pain. I screwed that girl Sofia to kind of spike you for having that hold on me. And I'm a total fucking coward because I got these...these tickets to Goa for us three month ago..._

My voice is breaking again and I see the expression on Emilies face changing. I still fell the pressure weighing on my heart. Maybe its not enough? Maybe she doesn't love me enough. Or maybe I did hurt her to deep. And what if...

Stop! I need to keep on going.

_But I couldn't stand... I didn't want to be a slave to the way I feel about you. Can you understand? You were trying to punish me back and it's horrible. It's so horrible because really I'd die for you._

It doesn't matter that I can't recognize my own voice anymore.

It doesn't matter that I make my self so vulnerable while they're all listening.

Because I can only see Emily ... her face. Emily Emily Emily.

And I can see the reflection of my pain and maybe the pain I caused her, mingling in her eyes.

_I love you._

_I love you so much it is killing me._

I look at her. There is nothing I can do.

Our eyes meet and I want to kiss that tears on her cheeks away, hold her.

Our gaze breaks.

And Emily takes a little breath and tightens her body in a way that I've seen a hundred times. She does that, I know, when she is being brave, braver then I'll ever be.

She is taking a step closer to me and my heart seems to burst when I can feel her near me again.

I am kissing Emily,

I think.

Like I thought when she first kissed me and made my heart feel like its growing to big for my body.

Emily Fitch did that.


	2. being alone

This is the next chapter ^.^ it has been written a while ago but I'm not sure about it. Finally I've decided to just upload it and change it later on if necessary. The first chapter was very close to the series. This comes out of my head. I have to warn you there is not much speaking here but I hope I can create some interesting characters in the following chapters

I'm searching for a beta. So if anyone of you would like to take a chance I'll be grateful ;)

please review! I'd like to now if you can connect to what I'm writing

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><p>aged 10 56

Once I had a mate. A best mate called Mara. Her Dad got a new job in New York. Now she is gone, but we are still writing letters. Sometimes when I'm upset about it my Mum tells me how I met Mara and that I'll always find someone to spend time with...

"And you've still got me Naomi love." She tickles my nose and fakes a disappointed look: "You didn't forget about me?! Did you?"

I'm desperately trying to push her hand away form my face but I'm too distracted by laughing. " Nooo I didn't forget about you...!"

Mum pulls hear hand away and me into a hug so my head rests on her stomach. "But you're still upset that Mara moved away to New York."

I nod my head because I hate crying. It gives me headaches. Mum takes my hand and we sit down on the bench in the kitchen. I lean my head to her shoulder and the vibrations of her voice calm me down as she speaks. " It was your first day of kindergarten. You were so excited, that you started running like a bolt when you could see it at the end of the street. And I felt like a grandma walking slowly behind you."

I chuckle a bit, imagining Mum with white hair and crinkles like an old witch.

" And when I arrived at the kindergarten you were already fighting with a boy that was taller than you and twice your weight."

" That was Frankie. He's such an idiot." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. So I hurriedly apologize: " Sorry mum!" I can feel how she shakes her head and I bet she is smiling.

"So you were fighting with Frankie then. And I could hear you shout _You can't push her only because she is smaller than you!_ You were so angry."

" Oh yes I was!" I was still mad at Frankie thinking about how he pushed Mara on the concrete.

" Frankie yelled at you that he could do what he wants, because she was his sister and you didn't hesitate a single moment and kicked his shin."

We both laugh a bit. Mum carries on " I thought _Oh no she is getting into trouble on her first day!_ When Maras Mum came running. But when I arrived she just said that Frankie has to learn, when you push someone you might get pushed back. You and Mara were still holding hands and strolled of to do God knows what. And this is how I know that you are good at making friends and always will be Naomi."

Its Sunday afternoon and mum did make me feel better telling me about Mara.

I'm trying to answer her last letter. She is writing about her new class and it seems to be great, while I'm sitting here wishing I could make it be Friday afternoon again. But I can't...

We send us photographs during holidays, of the things we did. On mine there would be me somewhere in the garden, around town or in the woods. Her pictures are showing her with Samantha the girl from next door. She writes a lot about her and I feel stupid admitting to myself that I'm jealous. I push the letter away and grab the wooden sword which leans against the wall behind my door. Its raining but I don't bother putting on a jacket and walk out into the garden with my green hoodie on. It shows a comic shark in the front and I talked Mum into buying it for me because Mara has one like this in red. I'm heading to a grove nearby. By the time I arrive, the shoulders of my hoodie are already soaked with water. I walk in deeper letting my sword flip against the trees I pass. Mara and I used to imagine that our swords were made of magical steel, which would give us the strength to fight dragons and angry ghosts. But the gemstones in them needed to be close, or they would lose their magical strength. I see the wood of the sword getting dark soaked up with rain just like my clothing. It's lost its magic, being just a stupid peace of wood. Tears start falling down my already wet cheeks. Fighting imaginary battles doesn't make very much sense when you are alone, is what I learned this summer, roaming around on my own. I grab my sword and start beating the tree at which we used to meet and make out our latest adventure. Water is dripping from my hands and my fingers feel numb when suddenly the sword yanks in my hands and I can see it sliver. No magical steel for me I think, while throwing it away. Only than I recognize I'm freezing and my body starts shaking from the cold and the sobs that accompany the tears streaming down my face. It turned dark around me and the rain pours down heavy on my head. The trees won't give me shelter and I feel alone.

Maras shoulder was always glued to mine. We would be standing side by side fighting dark knights and her three stupid older brothers. We should have been standing next to each other on Monday. It was the first day of secondary and everybody would look down on me. Mara should have been there so I could have slit my hand into hers and we would have impressed all the others with our adventures. Although we wouldn't need any of them.

But she wasn't there. So I hadn't felt her shoulder next to mine. So I couldn't hold her hand. So I wasn't brave, rambling stupid things. And in the end I did shut up and walked home alone. I was the only one walking home alone on Monday. The others would have their parents pick them up, or friends or sisters or brothers to walk home with them. I walked home alone all week and now its Sunday and tomorrow I'm going to walk home alone again. Not only the icy rain falling down on me hurts, but my body clenching with every sob. By the time I reach the back door I'm completely numb. My whole body is wet and empty and I feel like nothing can ever stay inside me again, because there are lots of wholes in me, so everything just flows out and drains away. I can't write that in a letter to Mara. Can I?


	3. looks like lots of betrayal

So again, I end up uploading a chapter :) I hope you'll enjoy! I finished this one a while ago ( as well) , but I hoped to finally find a beta and upload a corrected version. Unfortunately this plan didn't work. So enjoy anyway :D I'll always appreciate advise. Please subscribe ^.^

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><p>aged nearly eleven: looks like lots of betrayal<p>

Finally I managed to write an answer for Mara:

_Dear Mara,_

_the last picture of you and Samantha in central park was really funny. I would really like to visit you someday but mum isn't okay lately. She doesn't talk a lot and when she does she laughs too much and doesn't remember the things later. It's a bit scary._

_The weather here is shit, but shit in a way that would be great to hunt some ghosts in the muddy woods :)_

_School is totally boring! So I started to read all of mums books. I don't understand all of it. Most of them are about woman who are strong and stand up for their rights, some things they write are really impressive. Maybe I'm going to join them when I'm older. I'm already a bit excited about my birthday on Monday._

_Have fun on your school trip! Camping is surly going to be great and don't forget to send me a postcard :P_

_dearly your best friend _

_Naomi_

I'm pushing the letter into the letterbox. And start walking to school. I'm a bit late but: Hey, who cares anyway? Except for some idiot teacher. While I walk past the still closed shops I can see my reflection in the dark display windows. My hair is ash blonde with a little honey like hunch, my mum told me once, when we were in the garden sticking our feed in the grass, while spending the rare British sunshine hours outside. I've got skinny arms and the rest of me is thin as well. It's because I grew at least four inches since last summer. Hence I'm taller than most girls and I suppose that's what keeps them from bullying me, which doesn't mean they don't shut me out, because they do. Source of the evil is this stupid Daisy cow. Daisy Clark. She and her pink trousers and flowery hair stuff and glittery nail polish. Summing up all the things I would never wear and really don't need. I mean, playing isn't fun when you can't get dirt on your _oh_ so pretty cloths. I really don't get it. What do those girls do all day when they wouldn't even sit on the ground in summer? But why do I care? I know how to have fun and I'm used to being alone!

People gave me a hard time from the first day of kindergarten, because _I'm weird_. Some say young children wouldn't do that, but their parents do. And even the dump ones notice instinctively when people treat you like theirs something wrong about you, like perhaps your hippie mum. So I was glad that Maras parents hadn't had a problem with us playing. Lots of other parents would have and I already knew that back than, despite my age. And shamefully I must admit I know Daisy as long as I know Mara, if I could have done something about that I would have, but I couldn't help Daisy being Maras neighbour.

Once we asked her if she wanted to go to the grove with us but Daisy's parents are the nice kind I've just told you about. Her mother lay her hand on Daisy's shoulder and pushed her back into their garden. Ever since she looks at me like she knows something awful about me and would tell it to everyone to keep them save from me. And I assume she does, because no girl at my class uses more than only a few words to talk to me. That's why I sit next to Mick and Will. I think we are going to be friends, because we make jokes in the breaks and play the same things. It's easier with boys because they would never ask how you feel, and that's good when you actually don't know it your self.

Having this thought in my head I push the school door open. The students surrounding me are mostly older than me. During the last week we all got used to not being the old ones any more, but the little fuckers. Half my classmates learned about 30 new words, all swears. I was used to them even before I got in this class. By now I can see all of these class_mates_ sitting at their desks facing the teacher, who seems to just have entered the room. I can see the back of most of the pupils heads at this moment and the better part of them will never be my friends I think, sneaking too my place in the last row.

"Quiet please! Calm down! Do I have to remind you that class started five minutes ago?" Miss Bakers attempts to lower the noise in class are amusing and maybe a little pathetic. She's our English teacher and our form teacher, but obviously we are the first class she has to organize.

I ironically answers her question: "Seems like it." When she looks at me with an annoyed frown she calls over the noise: " Did you say something Naomi, you might want to share with the rest of class?!" I didn't mean for her to hear me. Slightly startled I shake my head. The call from the teacher drew the students attention to me and in the end pretty Miss Baker got what she wants: silence. I sigh with relief when she introduces the subject of the lesson and the eyes of the others wander of to the front of the classroom. That's when I happen to have the leisure to take a look around. The grammar stuff Miss Baker writes on the board is not what I'm interested in. I already know what she tries to explain to the rest. Whereas a pink envelope on Claras table seems to be worth a second gaze. Two of the other girls are whispering and Daisy the Devil giggles with excitement. It doesn't take long for them to inconspicuously turn around. They're looking for my reaction but I'm not sure what I should respond to. When they turn back to the front again I don't waste any more time looking at them. I'll know soon enough what's there to be excited about. During the lesson Will and I write little letters and plan what we're going to do the next break. Only when its too late, the expression on his face makes me realize, that once again Miss Baker addressed me with something, I unfortunately didn't hear. Shit, shit, shit... I manage to not say that out loud. Instead an "Erm..." slips out of my mouth. Wonderful Naomi Campbell! These are the moments that assure everybody of your outstanding brightness. … Not.

Miss Baker pushes back a strand of her reddish brown hair and realises me of my awfully embarrassing situation by repeating her question to me. And this is my chance to give the right answer and actually show that I can say intelligent things if I want to. But only in that rare case. Okay, that's a lie. I like surprising people with unbelievable and little known facts.

By the end of the lesson I already forgot about those giggling girls. They indeed didn't forget about me. With the ringing bell everybody hurriedly gets up from their chairs. I don't. Will went to the front to ask Miss Baker about Mick, who didn't show up today and I want to wait for him. So dear Daisy gets a chance to annoy me. She stops in front of my table cocking out one hip. This picture makes me smirk. She does look extremely hilarious trying to imitate the behaviour of an adult. She is followed by her little swarm and the expression queen-bee starts to make sense to me. The girls are a bit aside from us and don't seem to notice our conversation. The one that hasn't started yet, but will inevitably. Now that the lesson is over they don't bother lowering their voices and giggle and chatter even louder surrounded by the cloud of excitement I noticed earlier on.

"So … " Daisy starts and assures her self of my attention " You have to know Campbell..."

I can't help but interrupting her: " Do I?"

"What?" She asks distracted.

"Do I really have to know what you're about to tell me anyway?" I cross my arms. This situation makes me defensive. I can't help it.

"Oh yeah. So I just wanted to tell you that I'm sooo sorry, that I can't invite you to my birthday party. My parents said I can't invite too many people, because it's going to be a pyjama-party. I hope you're not too disappointed, maybe next year."

The pink envelopes in the other girls hands strike me like lightning. Why didn't I notice them earlier? So this is what it's all about. Daisy monster throws a party at night to eat the rest of class all up. Good for me, so I'll only have to deal with one of them next week.

I remain in my seat to make it look like I'm not pissed or something.

"What makes you think I would want to go to your party Daisy?"

"Every body else does." She smiles, turns around and vanishes in the buzzing swarm of her obedient followers. The group starts to move out of class, while I observe them, still sitting on the uncomfortable wood chair belonging to my desk. Daisys parents aren't to bright it seems, I discover, noticing that she invited every girl in class except for me. If seventeen guests aren't too much why eighteen?

When the last pink hair-ribbon disappeared through the door I get up and spot, that Will has already left the room. With my back turned on Miss Baker I stuff my belongings into the army bag my mum handed me to use for school. I can feel my heart pulse and the anger makes my hands shiver. Why do I even bother? I know this naff bitch only came to make me feel bad and I'm stupid enough to give her what she wants! I roughly push my bottle into the bag and it makes a cruel nose, like I just ripped something. "Fucking hell!" I mumble.

"Naomi?" Miss Baker asks for me from her desk.

"Don't bother I'm gone in a sec." I respond. There's no need to turn around and show her the vulnerability on my face. Mara has just slipped into my mind, turning the anger into a wave of sadness.

"That's not it Naomi. Would you please come to me for a moment."

"God no." I whisper followed by the loud and adequate answer: " Sure."

I swing the bag with the colourful band-buttons and pictures that I sewed on it, over one shoulder and walk to the front. By the time I reach the teachers desk I'm certain my face looks like stone. Miss Baker yet smiles at me. I get it, I think: She is being nice to me when there is nobody to notice around. Great!

She leans to her desk and pats on her chair: "Sit down." Its a polite order and I follow it.

I said she is pretty earlier and she is. She has this certain aura, like she knows every thing. Must be because of her job.

"Naomi I don't want you to think, that I don't get what is going on in my class. But there is only little that a teacher can do about students like Daisy." Great! I think a second time and make an attempt to leave the chair. "But if it gets to hard for you, I want you to tell me." She says calmly, which makes me drop back into the chair. " I can see that you're strong and through out my time at university I learned that a lot of strong women are loners, just like you." Miss Baker pauses but I stay silent. I meet her with an interested gaze. Lets see where this is going? "There are always going to be other people that can't deal with your strength. It's never going to be easy for you."

"I know." is my disappointed answer.

"Strong people need to learn one thing: that is asking for help. Naomi, I want you to never be afraid of that! You get me?" Miss Baker says this with her remarkable certainty, looking straight into my eyes, giving me a strange but somehow familiar feeling of safety. I smile and it's honest.

"I got it."

"Good. Now go on, or you're going to be late for arts." She moves so I can walk past her.

When I head for the door I say laughing: " I like your ponytail. It makes you look like a strong woman." Miss Baker laughs back at me and I rush through the door.

On my blue chucks I slide around the corner. I use the drive to keep running down the corridor. When I burst into the arts-room the door bangs into the wall leaving a mark. For the first time this day I'm lucky, our arts teacher hasn't arrived yet. "Great entrance Campbell!" Will laughs, giving me a thumbs up as I let my bag drop onto the desk. There's a noise like a pencil falls on the ground. And amazingly it's a pencil falling on the ground in front of me. It slipped through a crack in the stitching at the bottom of my bag. Apparently it didn't only sound like I ripped it, I actually did.

" I don't want to now what it looks like at Campbells. Probably they've got holes in all the walls and no proper dining table!" Daisys jarring voice sounds through the room. She glares at me, standing at a table a few steps away.

" That's right and my mum lets me ware my shoes in bed and I don't wash my hands before the meals!" I smile at her and sit down next to Will and ask him:

"What's going on with Mick?"

He's still grinning due to my reply and answers " The flew."

For the rest of the day I wangle to ignore Daisy and her sharp tongue.

When Will and I leave the room, where we had our last lesson, we shake hands and he starts running to get his bus. That's when I spot Miss Baker and my mother. _What is she doing here!_ Is the first thought coming to my mind. As if this would make it any easier. I slowly walk towards them.

" Hey Naomi." Miss Baker says smiling "I've called your mum because I thought it would be good to tell her what we talked about after the English lesson."

I'm not liking her smile. It's the one saying _now the adults are talking and you're too young to understand__._

Here we go: My mum pulls me into a quick hug. It's a cold one. The button of her jeans jacket pushes into my shoulder and she doesn't look at me. " Naomi darling, I want to talk to Miss … Baker, would you please wait outside?"

My mum would have never picked me up, when she is like this.

About her question: I'm not going to wait outside. They enter the staff room without taking a second look at me, so I get my chance to sneak up on them.

I hear Miss Baker say I _am_ a "very clever" student but I _am not_ " trying to fit in".

The feeling of betrayal takes my breath away.

So she wants me to fucking FIT IN too.

I start walking home. They can do what they want.


	4. Happy birthday Naomi

Happy birthday Naomi

finally aged eleven

It's Saturday and I'm sitting in my bed my back against the cold wall. My mum didn't manage to leave hers. I know because I would have heard her in the kitchen by now if she did.

"Fuck!" I swear into the silent room but it doesn't respond.

Why does it have to be like this? Why can't it be easy?

I don't want to get out of bed. If I just keep on lying in bed I could pretend this day hasn't started yet. I don't want lunch. And I certainly don't want to shower. Mum is too busy being depressed to call a plumper, so the water is cold. I wonder how she manages to go to work because some how she is still employed as social worker.

I swing my feet out of bed and manage to put my cloth on. I dreamed about, what Miss Baker said last night.

She was standing in front of me. I couldn't see her face but I knew it was her, wearing Daisys cloths. She was some kind of hybrid, half adolescent half adult.

Trying to fit in...

SHE IS NOT

trying to fit in

_ware this skirt _Miss Baker hisses

"I don't want to."

_Why? It's such a lovely pink skirt _her voice has a weird echo

" Yeah that's why!"

_But its so nice..._

TRY TO FIT IN she is screaming by now

I'm shaking my head to get the fading memory of the dream out of it. And apparently it works, which makes me smile. Just a bit. I grab some stuff out of one of the kitchen cupboards stuffing it into my repaired bag, hoping it's food and shut the door as loud as I can. She's my mum she can't sleep all day!

I take the bus into town. People look at me, some with pity, some dismissive. I know they're thinking I should be with an adult. I sink into the chair and pretend I don't notice them, turning my music louder.

Sometimes I think my Mum is as much a child as I am. She can't take proper care of me, when she is like this. Her sadness makes me helpless. It leaves me asking myself: _What am I supposed to do?_

As we arrive at the bus stop I grab my bag and hurry to get outside. I'm just walking around for a bit until I reach an ice cream parlour. I stop and look at it for a moment to decide whether I should spent my last money here or not. When the waitress smiles at me, walking by I start to move towards the shop. Five minutes later my wallet is empty and I try to get save to a bench, with both my hands wrapped around an ice-cream cornet with three scoops: two chocolate, one hazelnut. I sit down silently singing _happy birth day to me_.

Enjoying my ice I daydream about Daisys party, how she turns into the monster she is, while it gets dark outside and when the other girls parents turn up the next morning the only thing left is a collection of blood covered pink hair-ribbons, one for each girl Daisy ate. On Monday only the two of us and the boys would turn up in class. I would sit down between Mick and Will, and she would be sitting alone, having no one to giggle with. My face and hands are all sticky. Luckily I spot a little well and wash the gunge off of me.

Lets have a look, where could I spent my imaginary money? I stroll from shop to shop looking from the outside. Watching trough the windows makes me feel like there are two different worlds: me on the outside and them on the inside. It's kind of a nice feeling, although it doesn't sound like it. Thinking that there are invisible walls between me and them, makes me feel save even in tricky situations. A few weeks ago I walked past some girls, not nice girls. They glared at me. One of them shouted something at me. She had her dark hair in a slicked ponytail and her black tracksuit made her look boyish. I gazed back and knew I should have been scared and I was kind of scared, but still calm somehow. I felt that wall between us, it wasn't only the distance. I kept on walking head held high and they left me alone.

One of the shops I pass is just too tempting, it's a book store (What else could it have been?)

It's tiny and I once herd two girls discussing how very cute it is. They didn't buy anything.

I go there a lot, because it's like a gold mine. Sometimes I'm really not sure if there's magic involved. How can a shop that's about twice the size of our kitchen seem to have every book I'd ever like to read?

I hide the books that seem to be interesting, so I can buy them when I get some money, although I have no idea, when that might be. In the end I resign and leave.

Now is seriously the right time to improve my mood with some of my favourite biscuits.

I plop down on the next bench and reach into my bag. I pull out lots of useless stuff followed by exactly what I need right know: garibaldies.

The women inventing these must have been a genius! I still don't get how biscuits without chocolate can be so good? It's got to be the currants.

With the biscuits in my right hand I keep on searching in my bag with the free one. There it is, the book I decided to take with me this morning. Some how I manage to eat and read at the same time. Only when I notice the reading's getting harder I realize that it started to get dark around me. The book is too absorbing so I keep on reading until the end of the chapter.

When I'm heading home I can watch the world grow black, all the colours start to slightly turn grey.

By the time I'm back on our front step the sky is black as coal.

I unlock the door and go inside. I close it by leaning against it. And my head drops. It's dark and silent inside. Starring at the doormat I spot a postcard. Turning it as I pick it up I already know who wrote it. Mara. I can read her name its pressed underneath the last line. I don't want to read the card at this moment so I put it into my pocket, deciding to spare it for when I go to bed.

I walk through the darkness not feeling like I want to turn on the light. I open my mothers bedroom door and sit down next to her sleeping figure. I reach for her hair and stroke it. "Mum you've got to get up." She makes a noise. After a few seconds she turns her head and blinks at me. She looks old. " Hey love … What time is it?" "It's ten o'clock mum." She closes her eyes for another moment. When she suddenly breathes in they spring open again. "O god I forgot your birthday!" She sits up. Her hair is a mess around her head, like it mirrors the inside of it. And the tears I silently wait for start streaming down her face. She shakes her head, when I reach out to hug her. She is still shaking it while I hold her. With a raw and low voice she constantly says that she's the worst mother in the world. I don't have the strength to disagree. The only words I can press trough my clenching throat are: "It's okay." And I'm not even sure if I tell myself or my crying mother. When she finally calms down again I get up. I make spaghetti with pesto and get her out of bed and into the kitchen. She eats something. I watch her starring at the leftover food on her plate. When I can't take it any more I leave her. I don't say anything. Falling into my bed I start crying. I pull Maras card out of my back pocket. Reading her words I start to smile through my tears and stop sobbing.

Sunday's boring. My Mum walks round the house like a ghost and I spend the day killing time.

Monday morning my Mum makes breakfast. We don't really talk, mostly because we both are not the morning-type of people. I know she tries to fix things, but I feel like there is nothing to fix. Things happen and nothing can change that, although I'm not angry. Life is just like this.

I walk to school with heavy, wet feet. I waited to long when I left the bus and it splashed the water from the gutter onto me, when it drove away. So I walk to school with shoes full of water.

The whole rest of the day is wet and cold, not literally but still it feel like it.

Of course Daisy and her fellowship are complete, no one got killed this weekend not even the smallest of them. So I have to listen to them talking about the "most amazing party ever!"

I get it: I don't belong here.

But where else should I go?

Coming home I loudly shut the door behind me. My Mum pops her head out of the kitchen door, just when I realise it smells like food. There is warmth floating through me. I let my bag fall in the corner of the living room. My mum places two plate with steaming curry on the table and sits down next to me. We eat for a while, until she asks: " What's wrong honey? Is it still...?" I know she means the forgotten birthday but: " No ..."

She looks at me: "So what is it then Naomi?"

"I overheard you and Mrs. Baker talking and … She said I'm not trying to fit in."

My Mum is still smiling. She turns her upper body in my direction and says: " You should have listen some more. Because the next thing your Mrs. Baker said, is that you should never, ever change about being yourself!"


End file.
